Ad Hominem
by JacksonWorstNigthmare
Summary: When Zeus feels his domain is threatened, he vows to teach humans a lesson: that he is the unchallenged ruler of the skies.  Percy and Annabeth find themselves in the middle of a massacre, that only they can stop.  Post TLO.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first fanfic ever. Hopefully I'm a better writer than my sister (this is her account). Percy, Annabeth, Grover and crew are here. I have a few caveats, so here they are: 1. I don't do abuse. It's repetitive and overdone, not to mention bore-ing. 2. I think OOC is cool, as long as it works. 3. I do not do original characters that are main characters. **

**I do not own Percy Jackson or anything that is owned by Mr. Riordan. **

Zeus sighed. He lounged on his throne, elbow resting on one of the armrests, his chin in his hand. He felt his head with his other hand. He could've sworn that his hair _felt _grayer. He was sick of dealing with the rest of the Olympians. His eyes narrowed, remembering the conference he had just ended.

"_They're only mortals, they don't know any better," Hestia had said, looking up from her place on the floor beside the hearth. Everybody had been shocked. Hestia rarely said anything, let alone challenged Zeus. _

_Of course, Zeus wasn't about to make exceptions to the nobody-can-challenge-me-rule. "THEY ARE TAKING OVER THE EARTH!" He had boomed, frightening poor Hestia half to death._

"_They will not succeed," a voice had interposed quietly. The Olympians had turned in Athena's direction. The raven-haired goddess had smile, and then continued, "The humans can never dominate the Earth. They are only mortal, and, trust me, it would take much longer than their lifetime to take over. Their new Skybeams are not going to change that."_

_Dionysus spoke before Zeus could explode again, which, form the deep red color of his face, he looked about to do, "You're just peeved because this time it's the sky the humans are mastering. They've finally achieved mass supersonic flight, which is something only you had been able to do before." He finished with a smirk, rather unwise of him, as Dionysus now became the target of Zeus's verbal wrath._

"_HOW CAN YOU SPEAK?" Zeus started, leaning forward in his throne in Dionysus's direction._

_Dionysus looked slightly alarmed, but didn't move in his own vine-covered throne. Although, his vines moved slightly closer to him, as if they were protecting him._

"_HOW CAN YOU SPEAK OF LOSING YOUR DOMAIN?" The other Olympians looked frightened, as well. They had not seen Zeus this angry in a very long time. Outside of the throne room, heavy thunder could be heard, and the wind began to shake the hall. _

"_YOU ARE THE GOD OF GETTING DRUNK AND PARTYING! I DON'T SEE YOU LOSING YOUR DOMAIN! IF I DIDN'T KNOW BETTER, I WOULD SAY YOU ARE PLOTTING AGAINST ME, DIONYSUS! YOU SUPPORT THE THEFT OF MY DOMAIN, WHILE YOURS ONLY GROWS LARGER!" Dionysus now looked frightened. He shrank back in his throne, the vines forming a complete shield in front of him. _

"_N-n-no!" he stammered, eyes wide as Zeus left his throne and drew near to him. He put a finger to the vine shield and they instantly withered and died, destroying Dionysus's rudimentary barrier. Zeus drew close to Dionysus, stopping with his nose an inch from Dionysus's. _

"_You will get out of my sight. Now," said Zeus, his voice deadly quiet, the barely suppressed rage oozing in his words. _

_Dionysus was more than happy to oblige. He disappeared with a loud crack, and his empty throne seemed to grow bigger in the tension-filled silence that followed. _

_Zeus turned to face the rest of the Olympians. "OUT!" "ALL OF YOU! Now!" he yelled. The other Olympians all disappeared with similar cracks, Poseidon only pausing to give Zeus a 'this-isn't-over' look._

Zeus was now alone. The Skybeams were deeply troubling, no, an immediate threat to his domain of the sky, and none of the other Olympians seemed to care. Humans, tons of them, zooming through the sky, at supersonic speeds, acting like they owned it… Zeus snarled and slammed his fist down on the arm of his throne. A small crack appeared where it impacted, the area slightly crackling with lightning. He knew how the humans were. He knew what they had done to Pan, and he, the greatest of the Olympians, could not allow that to happen to him.

No other Olympian was suffering as he was! Dionysus dominion was only growing larger, as were all of the other Olympians'. He was alone in his misery. He thought of his fellow gods, and frowned. He'd missed something. A name had just popped into his head, the name of someone else who was losing their domain. Instantly, he called her, his voice booming in a way that only an Olympian's voice can boom in, screaming her name out in the thunder that ripped the skies with the word: "ARTEMIS!"

She appeared in front of him in a second. She did not bow—he knew she would not, as she was still angry at him for his earlier behavior.

"Yes, Lord Zeus?" she said.

Artemis stood in front of Zeus's throne, her silver-sandaled feet rooted resolutely to the pristine marble floor. She seemed to shimmer as she looked up at her father, in the same manner that a bunch of angry piranhas shimmers in the water, as they race toward their prey.

Zeus forced himself to smile. Artemis, he knew, was not the ideal partner in what he was planning to do, but he needed someone to help his ruse, knowing that the other Olympians would not eat his lies unless they were backed up by another. She, however, would have to do, as there was nobody else in danger of losing their domain, and, consequently, nobody else he could trust. Still, seeing Artemis looking at him like that, so defiant, almost gave him second thoughts as to whether or not he could indeed trust her.

Nevertheless, he had no choice. "How's hunting been lately?" he asked.

"As always," answered Artemis, keeping her expression carefully blank and composed.

Zeus nodded. He was prepared for this. "And," he asked, "How are the girls?"

"My hunters?" Artemis began, "They are very well, as always," she added.

"Not those girls, Artemis," said Zeus.

Artemis was quick, "They are making progress."

Zeus raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked, leaning closer to her on his throne.

Artemis's eyes narrowed, "There is still much suffering of women and girls, yes, but it is getting better!" she repeated, somewhat desperately.

"Does this not make you angry?" asked Zeus calmly.

"The men do not understand," said Artemis.

"After all you have done? And the men continue to oppress the women and the girls. How are the girls, Artemis? How are the…"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" Artemis interrupted, her shimmer disappeared, leaving a solid form behind.

"You're losing them, Artemis. For every gain, there are two losses. For every law, there are three persecutions," said Zeus, fighting to keep the smirk off his face. He was pleased. He had not known that Artemis was so bothered by this.

"I have been trying," she said, having regained her composure. Artemis smoothed the folds in her chiton, looking at her feet. She was obviously ashamed. It was funny, Zeus thought, seeing Artemis ashamed.

"Artemis, dear," said Zeus, gently. "Do you hate the men?"

"Yes," Artemis answered quietly. She had stopped fussing with her chiton and was now occupied with a gold bracelet on her wrist.

"Really?" asked Zeus.

"Yes, father," Artemis repeated.

"How much do you hate the men, Artemis?"

"Very much, father."

"Show me how much."

Artemis looked up from her bracelet and fixed her silver eyes on Zeus's. Then, she growled, her expression contorting into one of rage. Artemis grabbed the hem of her chiton, and lifted it up in a wide arc. In one fluid, sweeping motion, she turned, and in her place, appeared a shimmering mirage. But, it was not an oasis that took her place, but rather, a nightmare.

Have you ever seen a work of Michelangelo's called the Last Judgment? It is frescoed onto the wall of the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican, and is frightfully graphic. Artemis's vision was of the same cloth—only it was Artemis as each one of the demons, torturing men, pulling them apart, reveling in their screams and pain.

Zeus was reminded, seeing his daughter's vision, that Artemis was to be feared more than Ares. Again, he thought that perhaps bringing Artemis into this was not, in fact, so prudent. And again, he shook the misgiving aside.

The vision faded, leaving Artemis in its place.

Zeus smiled at her. "Artemis, my dear, we will do it together," he said.

Artemis nodded, knowing that she would need Zeus. She knew why he wanted to help her—only for her support in the destruction of the Skybeams. "Thank you, father," she said.

"We will declare war on the men of the earth," said Zeus.

Artemis nodded and went to her throne, seating herself upon it.

Zeus snapped his fingers and an image of a monastery appeared on it. He smiled at Artemis, then turned to the monastery. In the image, it was dawn. The sun was just peeking over the hills behind the small building, bathing the entire scene in rich, orange light. A bell was tolling somewhere. Zeus raised his right arm and pointed at the monastery. The sound of the bell died as the lightning bolt hit the monastery. Screams floated into the gleaming Olympian throne room, oddly out of place in its spotless interior. In the middle of the room, hung the image, the monastery aflame. Zeus grinned at Artemis, who, in spite of herself, smiled back.

The monks had kept a supply of gasoline in a shed in the back of the monastery for travelers, as there were no stations nearby. One of the monks remembered as the flames raced toward it, but he was too late, as he turned, the quiet dawn on the valley he was in was bathed in a different kind of light, a white hot light of gasoline exploding, as the day was ripped open by the blast.


	2. Chapter 2

**So, here's chapter 2. Yay! Percy's here. So is Annabeth. Grover is coming, just wait a bit longer. I forgot to mention, Percy and Annabeth are together. And, I want to clarify a few things:**

**Commercial Supersonic flight: Flight at the speed of really fast gov't fighter jets, available to everybody (for a fee, of course). I'm talking at the availability of current commercial planes. (Like 747's)**

**Chiton: Ancient Greek maxi-dress. What girls wore.**

**Why a monastery? Because men live there. And, Hosios Loukas is very beautiful and I hope you all look it up and appreciate it for its artistic and architectural qualities.**

**BTW, I like men! I like them a lot! But Artemis doesn't, and I couldn't think of anyone else who was really losing out in the modern world. Honestly, though, I like men. That's why the good guys in the story are trying to protect them! **

**This chapter is really nice and long. The first one was kind of short, but this one is good. Ten pages! Yay! **

**Theoretically, I could update my sister's, but it has abuse in it, which I think is boring. I could pull the old 'it was all a dream' and start over again. But she wouldn't let me do that.**

**I guess here's where I tell you to review. REVIEW! I need more than my sister!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own.**

Percy Jackson awoke with a start. He couldn't remember why he'd woken up, but it was very late (or was it early?) and he was tired. The dim light that was always in New York filtered through the shades on his window, making bars that fell in waves over the gentle folds of his sheets. Groggily, he turned his head to peer at his clock. The glowing red letters stood out harshly against the dim light of his room, and it was with bleary eyes that he managed to make out the time: 4:36.

Percy groaned and rolled over, trying to go back to sleep. After a half hour of trying, he knew it was futile. Grudgingly, he left his warm bed and dragged himself over to his desk, where he sat down and proceeded to log on to his laptop. Mr. Blofis, Paul, had gotten him the computer two weeks ago, and Percy had been on it every spare second he got. Annabeth had a computer, too, and Percy had seized the opportunity to become familiar with IM.

Eagerly, or, as eagerly as could be at such an hour, Percy logged on to his IM account and said a brief prayer to Poseidon that Annabeth would be on. He opened one eye warily and, to his delight, saw that she was. Unable to suppress the grin that bloomed on his face, Percy quickly typed a hello to her.

Annabeth, it seemed, was less head-over-heels, and had the prudence to ask Percy why on earth he was awake at this hour.

Percy couldn't think of a good answer to that, so he settled for the truth: "couldn't sleep" Then, he had a flash of genius: "why are you up?"

Annabeth wrote back, again having outsmarted Percy. "I'm still in California. It's only 1 here. And I'm on spring break, so I can stay up."

In his room 2500 miles away from Annabeth, Percy could've slapped himself. Spring break! Of course! Annabeth went to a private school, and their break was later than at Percy's school. Percy had returned to school a few days ago, while Annabeth's break had just started. Percy perked up again. She had told him that she was coming to New York for break to look at colleges.

He typed back: "when are you leaving for here?"

Annabeth responded: "Tomorrow, or, today."

Percy smiled. New York, or anywhere, for that matter, was awfully boring without Annabeth. He, however, was not happy to see that he'd changed the subject of their conversation.

"Have you talked to your dad recently?"

Percy knew she meant Poseidon. He also didn't want to talk about it. He knew that Annabeth blamed herself for what had happened between them, but it really wasn't her fault. She had drawn up plans for all of Olympus, brand new. Unfortunately, Zeus had a fit of power-control, and had rejected changes to the throne room. This had been the central piece of Annabeth's plans, and Zeus's insistence that the throne hall not be changed had left Annabeth very miffed, to say the least.

So, she had asked Percy to help her.

Percy remembered that conversation.

_It had been a clear night—a rarity in New York city. Percy had just gotten back from the movies with friends. He walked into the door of the apartment he, his mom, and Mr. Blofis shared. His mom had been in the kitchen, bending over some chicken dish. _

"_Hi, mom," Percy said. He took off his coat and threw it over the back of a chair._

"_Percy, Annabeth called. She wants you to call her back," his mom said, not looking up from whatever she was preparing._

_Percy had instantly lit up. He raced to the nearest phone, a corded one in the family room, and flopped down on the couch, already having dialed her number and hearing it cheerfully ring in his ear. A few rings later, Annabeth's golden voice floated through the speaker, making Percy feel like nectar was warming his insides._

"_Hello?"_

"_Hi, Annabeth!"_

"_Oh, hi Percy."_

"_I heard you called earlier, what can I do for you?" asked Percy. Anything, anything, he thought, hating that she was all the way on the other end of the continent. Sometimes in history class he would stare at the globe Mr. Lang had on his desk, and imagine how far it was from California to New York. Across many different colors, all of the states, standing between the two like an army, ready to attack from both sides._

"_Look, I need to ask a favor," Annabeth said, sounding unsure._

_Percy grinned even wider. "Sure," he said. Anything I can do for you miles away, just name it._

_And then Annabeth had explained to him how her proposal had been rejected, and how Zeus would not change the throne room at all. _

"_Oh, Annabeth, I'm so sorry," said Percy, eyebrows knitting together. He leaned against the giant cushy arm of the couch. "I always knew Zeus had power issues, but I didn't think they were this bad," he said._

"_Do you think you could ask Poseidon to get my plan approved?" Annabeth had asked. _

_2500 miles away, in a living room in New York City, Percy's smile fell. "Are you sure that's a good idea, Annabeth?" he asked. "Zeus is like, a god."_

"_Percy, please?" she asked. And her voice was so sweet that Percy couldn't refuse, he had to say yes._

_A week later, Poseidon had appealed to Zeus for Annabeth's plan. Zeus had ridiculed him, in front of all the other Olympians, for bending to the will of his kid's girlfriend. Poseidon had blamed Percy, and had spent an hour yelling at him after the meeting. He had flooded Manhattan for three days afterward, for good measure. And Zeus had struck a power plant, cutting off part of New York's power for five hours. Percy had felt horribly guilty, and Annabeth blamed herself. _

On the computer, Annabeth asked again: "Have you talked to Poseidon recently?"

Percy drew a deep breath before responding, "no."

"I'm sorry," wrote Annabeth.

Percy tried to change the subject. "Which schools are you looking at?"

Annabeth began to type: "NYU…"

Percy didn't let her finish. "Are you sure? It's really spread out."

"What do you mean?" typed Annabeth.

An hour later, Percy looked up at his clock. The light outside had changed, and was now a bit lighter. The hazy, mud-brown of the sky was still there, only now with a few tinges of pink. His clock read 6:14. He was going to be late for school if he didn't hurry. Listening closely, Percy could hear Paul rummaging in his closet in his and his mom's bedroom.

"Annabeth, got to get ready for school," Percy wrote.

He shut his laptop without waiting to see her reply. Percy flicked the swithch to turn on the lights in his room, and then followed Paul's lead, rummaging around in his droors for a clean uniform to wear. After not too much searching, he pulled one out, and made it out of his room in time to walk with Paul to school.

They stood at a corner, waiting for the walk signal. There was an awkward silence between Paul and Percy. Paul had been trying to make small talk ever since they left the apartment, and Percy had been unresponsive. It wasn't personal, Percy was just thinking about his dad—his Olympian dad. Being yelled at by Poseidon had been one of the worst experiences of his life—and Percy had had a lot of bad experiences. The humiliation, and the feeling that he had let him down had ridden on Percy's shoulders for weeks afterward, and were still there.

Paul Blofis was used to Percy staring into space. He seemed, to him, like a real quiet kid. Thoughtful, meditative. So, when Percy refused to respond to any of Paul's attempts to make conversation, Paul ignored it. Still, he was somewhat relieved when his cell phone rang, and broke the heavy silence that had descended over the pair.

"Paul Blofis," he answered. He jerked the phone from his ear when the microphone immediately filled with sounds of wailing. High-pitched, loud wailing. He fumbled with the volume button, adjusting it to as low as it would go. Then, gingerly, he put the phone back to his ear. "Hello?"

"Paul!" wailed the voice on the other end. It sounded like a woman. More sobs followed.

"Hello? Who is this?" asked Paul, ready to hang up. Percy was giving his a questioning look.

"I-it's A-A-Alina!" she cried through the phone.

"Alina Thomas? From school?" Asked Paul. Mrs. Thomas was the Art History teacher where he taught. She was known for being very emotional about art, and, really anything.

Paul walked forward as Percy tugged on his arm. He looked up briefly. The crossing sign had changed from the red hand to the white walking man. Paul stumbled a little stepping down from the curb onto the street and he saw Percy roll his eyes out of the corner of his eye. Paul winked at him in return.

"Y-y-eeessss," moaned Alina. "Paul! It's it's G-GONE!" she wailed, initiating a fresh bout of sobbing.

Paul frowned. Alina was very annoying. Percy was now showing signs of wanting to talk to him, and he didn't want to blow this opportunity to figure out what went on in that boy's head. "What's gone?" he pressed, impatiently, eager to get Alina off the phone.

"Hosios Loukas!" She dissolved into tears again, and, frustrated, Paul told her he had to go and then hung up.

"Who was that?" asked Percy.

"Mrs. Thomas," responded Paul.

"What did she want?" Percy wanted to know.

"Something happened to some piece of art. I'm not sure, but she's really upset about it," he said.

Percy made a face. "I am so glad I'm not taking her class," he said.

"Yeah, you know she takes attendance very seriously," said Paul, somewhat bitterly. He regretted it the instant the words were out of his mouth. "Percy, I didn't mean…" but it was too late, the damage was already done. Percy had turned, and was no longer looking at Paul, but off into a distance that Paul couldn't see. Paul knew he was being tuned out, but he deserved it. He told himself that Percy probably had a good excuse for missing so much school, after all, Sally seemed to thing he did. And, though Paul, what's good enough for Sally is good enough for me.

Paul sighed, and concentrated on walking. He'd blown it, again.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Percy sat in Greek class, ignoring the teacher. He had been delighted to discover that his school offered Greek. It was the only class he could really sleep in and still get an A. The course was half modern and half ancient, but the teacher really didn't care which the students used, so long as they learned something. Now, Percy pulled the map of the United States out of his pocket that he'd clipped out of a newspaper article. He had carefully marked where Annabeth lived, and where he lived.

He couldn't have picked two points further apart from each other. There was a whole continent between them. Percy put the map away, dismayed. He knew it was irrational, looking at the map, imagining the distance. It only made him depressed, and Percy didn't like to mope.

He tuned in for a moment to what his teacher was saying. "Let's talk about modern stuff!" he said, desperately trying to get the class's interest. "Um, today, who knows what happened?"

Nobody raised their hand.

"A medieval Greek monastery, Hosios Loukas, burned."

Somebody raised their hand. The teacher called on them, almost too quickly, betraying the teacher's desperation. "Mrs. Thomas was crying about that today. Isn't it, like, stone?"

"Yeah," the teacher nodded his head up and down repeatedly. "But they kept gasoline there for travelers and it exploded," he said.

There was a bit of excited murmuring. Explosions were far more interesting than Greek.

A girl raised her hand and was called upon. "Did anybody get hurt?"

"There weren't any survivors," said the teacher.

"None?" she asked, in disbelief.

"None," the teacher affirmed.

The rest of the school day was hideously boring for Percy, the only bright spot was the sight of Paul, while Percy was walking to English. Paul was walking to class, his arms full of books, trying desperately to balance them while being accosted by Mrs. Thomas, who was wailing and flailing around like a goalie.

Paul liked to stay after school, and today he had a staff meeting, so Percy was left, as usual, to walk home alone. He was glad to be alone, finally, after school, and was relieved to not have to spend more one-on-one time with Mr. Blofis.

He walked home in a daze, barely taking in his surroundings, thinking of Annabeth and trusting that he knew the route well enough for his feet to take him there. On a corner beside a small church, however, he stopped. The air had changed. What had been, just minutes before, a bright, sunny, and cheerful day, was now dark and stormy. Percy looked up at the sky, his eyes going wide. _Oh, no_, he thought.

The sky was a sickly green color, with thick, gray clouds swirling about. Lightning flickered among them, occasionally striking the ground in the distance. Thunder rumbled ominously, like a warning growled by the gods.

It probably was a warning from the gods, thought Percy. The realization that he was in a lot of danger suddenly occurred to him. He thought, furtively, of somewhere he would be safe and came up with nowhere. Well, maybe not _nowhere_. Percy said a quick prayer to Poseidon, hoping he still liked him enough to at least not want him dead, and took off at a dead run towards central park.


End file.
